Dust to Dust
by GlassBomb
Summary: Gene decides to put Alex on desk duty to protect her, but is he protecting her interests or his own? Gene/Alex, because they're fabulous together, with a side order of office humour. UPDATED - Epilogue added. :D
1. Suspension

**Author note: Hallo all! I'm new to these here waters, but I'm completely in love with Ashes to Ashes, and the Alex/Gene dynamic, so I thought I'd write them a fucked-up romantic two-shot. :D This is possibly a tad OOC - well, I say a 'tad' xD - but hey, you'll like it anyway (she says hopefully). Contains no notable spoilers (unless I haven't been watching closely enough), and features a slightly softer Gene than we're all used to, a Ray that almost gets knocked out by his flying DCI and a rather nervous Shaz.**

**But to hell with all that - let's fire up the fiction Quattro! Oh, and don't forget to review, there's a good bunch of fans. :D**

**Narrow-Minded Arsehole**

It was an extremely dreary Wednesday morning at the London Met HQ, and Ray Carling and Chris Skelton were playing Confectionary Scrabble whilst attempting to shuffle through various case leads, none of which really led anywhere at all. Opposite them sat a seriously peeved Alex Drake, who was racing through form after form after pissing form of her boyfriend's paperwork in a desperate attempt to get them all finished so she could do something vaguely exciting.

"C-A-N-D-Y, candy!" Chris called triumphantly, and Shaz grinned at him from across the room as Alex rolled her eyes, burying herself in caffeine to cope with their ridiculous antics.

"You bastard!" Ray cried, scandalised as Chris smirked and helped himself to a pink wafer victoriously. "Triple word score too! That's twenty-seven pissing points!"

All of a sudden, the office door burst open, and in strode Gene Hunt, his usual face of thunder firmly in place. Instantly, the Scrabble board was covered in no less than fourteen recent cases that were neither Ray's nor Chris's, and they cleared their throats delicately, trying to make it look like they were doing something that was in some way productive.

"Right," the DCI called out as he strode into the office with intent, exuding a sense of extreme irritation. "Raymundo, Christopher, I've just had a tip-off from the Holier-Than-Thou arseholes upstairs - we've got a dead boy in the middle of a screwed-up gangland hellhole. Now get your bloody coats on!"

Ray and Chris grinned, grabbing their leathers, and the trio turned to go as Alex stood up from behind the desk.

"What about me then?" She demanded, and Gene stopped dead, turning to face her.

"I told you earlier," he said simply. "We've all got overdue paperwork and I'd like you to do it - after all, you're a bloody woman, you're good at that stuff…"

The woman gaped at him, anger lancing through her veins.

"I've been doing paperwork all week!" She retorted furiously. "A DI should not be stuck in a pissing office for five days shuffling through all your _shit_!"

Alex and Gene had been romantically involved for a little over a fortnight now, and whilst during the first week he had kept a close and protective eye on her, this week he was simply taking the piss. She may as well have gotten an office job, and she was beginning to suspect that he had been purposely saving up the miniature paperwork Everest in front of her for the last month just to keep her station-bound.

Gene, meanwhile, gave a shrug of indifference.

"Ray and Chris need the experience," he explained casually. "Or shall I sit down and teach them Advanced Document Revision 101?"

She seethed internally, but there was no way in hell that she would give him the satisfaction of noticing her fury.

"No, I want you to stop being a wanker and give me a proper bloody job to do!" The psychologist yelled, and something deep within the DCI snapped as he abandoned his position and strode lividly towards her.

"Do you _really _want to know why I've kept you in all week?" He snarled, almost directly in her face - but she was damned if she'd back down.

"If you'd be so bloody kind!" She spat in response, and he growled.

"Alright then, here it comes!" He stormed in towering rage, eyes intently staring into hers. "I love you and I don't want you getting bloody hurt!"

Despite the fact that Alex and Gene's relationship was common knowledge to the three involuntary eavesdroppers, they all reeled in shock, and no one more so than Alex - his protectiveness was touching, but he was having a laugh…

"For god's sake, Gene!" She began in exasperation, uttering a deep sigh. "I'm not made of bloody porcelain! Surely you respect me more than that?! I'm not an idiot - I'm not going to go Charge of the Fight Brigade on you, alright?"

Gene was rather glad that no one but her could see the full volume of his hurt, and he growled furiously, a part of him beyond livid at her inability to understand.

"This is not up for discussion," he answered clearly, his fists clenched tightly in emotional turmoil.

"I am not doing any more bloody paperwork!" She screeched, and Gene's expression hardened.

"Am I to understand that you're refusing my instructions?" He enquired with an air of bitter sarcasm and haughty authority, and Alex barely restrained herself from hitting him.

"_Yes_!" The DI almost screamed, and the Northerner gifted her with a hard stare.

"Then you leave me with no choice," he snapped, nearly spitting with rage. "Detective Inspector Drake, London Metropolitan officer two-zero-eight-three-five, I am suspending you pending further notice for insubordination towards a superior and for being too much of a loud-mouthed _tart to fuckin' listen to me_!"

Gene was bowled clean over by the force of her slap, stumbling backwards and almost into the wide-eyed Ray, who moved quickly to avoid being the DCI's personal trampoline.

"Then fuck your job!" She roared, shoving the paperwork off the desk where it floated destructively to the floor and covered the stunned Gene. "And fuck _you_, Gene Hunt!"

Alex stormed out of the office, tears in her eyes as he shoved aside Ray and Chris, both of whom watched her depart in utter astonishment.

Gene staggered to his feet, aghast at the documents that littered the floor and privately gutted at what he'd just done.

"Not a word," he spat out in warning as the trio of officers looked at him as though he was an utter twat. "Not a _pissin' _word!"

The bystanding threesome all remained tight-lipped as Gene shot Shaz a commanding glance.

"Get this cleaned up!" He ordered ferociously, and she nodded silently, beginning immediately. Seething, he returned his angle to the gaping dynamic duet who were now behind him.

"And as for you two," he barked, "we're going on a bloody picnic."

He swept from the office, and Chris waved a goodbye to the edgy Shaz, who gave a soft smile in return as she scrambled to re-arrange the fallen documents, before exchanging looks with the equally bewildered Ray and flanking the DCI up the corridor.

**Author note: Well, that's it for chapter one - I'll post the second and final one tomorrow, assuming you liked this one. :D Reviews will win your virtual muffins, I promise.**


	2. Redemption

**Author note: Thanks to everyone for your reviews - they're greatly appreciated, and I shall hand out the muffins shortly after you've read this part. XD This one involves, amongst other things, a highly-strung DCI, a rather sizeable helping of banter, Ray playing agony uncle and Alex being entirely hacked off. This was written almost exclusively to Amerie's **_**Gotta Work**_**, which is not only a seriously brilliant tune, but sort of sums up the Gene/Alex thing if you ask me.****It's a bit softer and quite a bit longer than the last chapter, but I'm hoping that it doesn't sacrifice Gene's character too much… let me know please!**

**Enjoy!**

The rest of the day passed incredibly slowly for Ray and Chris, who were desperately trying to avoid incurring the wrath of the furious Gene Hunt. His witness questioning was far harsher than usual (which, Ray had thought at the time, was bloody saying something), he was far snappier and shorter and he seemed completely hurt.

"Book 'im," Gene said eventually in sheer frustration, throwing the criminal of the day at Chris, who looked at him in nervous astonishment.

"Uhm," the DC began, panicking slightly at the stature of this man - if he was under six foot seven, he'd have happily donated next month's wages to Ray. "What for?"

"Wasting my fucking time!"

Chris nodded edgily, swallowing harshly as he cuffed the giant and led him towards a cell.

"Thank fuck he's out of 'ere," Gene spat, relieved - he felt like absolute shit over what he'd done with Alex early, and he badly needed to put it right.

_Why the fuck did you have to go and suspend her? _His unforgiving mind questioned heatedly, still furious at him.

_She wouldn't do the paperwork! _His heart argued weakly, worn out due to the events of the day.

_Don't give me that bollocks_, his head snapped. _She's a DI - She should not have to spend all pissing week rifling through your crap because you're irrationally worried about her!_

_I will not lose her, and I don't give a shit what you say! _His heart spat in extreme conviction. _If she's safe, I'll keep her on desk duty forever!_

_Then you won't have a forever, _his mind said carefully, sighing. _If you don't give her the respect she deserves, you _will_ lose her - not to death, but to resentment and bitterness. Fuck, Gene - can't you see that she wants to DO something, to get out there and be involved? She loves you, but if keep this up this bloody game, she's not going to love you much longer!_

"Guv?" Ray asked quietly, watching the DCI rub a weary hand across his face.

"_What_, Ray?" Gene answered tiredly, sighing loudly.

Ray Carling was almost as shit in terms of emotional comprehension as his superior officer was, but it seemed like he had to be the mediator of all this bollocks.

"Do yourself a bloody favour and sort this out," he instructed with clarity. "I can't pissing _believe_ you, honestly. You've got a fantastic woman with a pert arse, a pretty face, a lot of brains and a great personality, and you're fucking ruining it!"

Gene would normally have decked the DS for speaking to him in this manner, but he knew he was completely right.

"You wouldn't understand," he growled, fists clenched in frustration. As little as the emotionally stunted cop showed it, Alex meant the world to him, and the idea of putting her in the direct path of danger was abhorrent to him.

_You soft bastard, _his mind remarked in contempt, and he snarled under his breath at it.

"Why wouldn't I understand?" Ray challenged in annoyance, and Gene instantly stood up, shoving his face towards the DS's.

"Because you've got the depth of a fucking _petri dish_!" He stormed, and Ray recoiled almost instantly as Gene continued his rampage.

"What am I supposed to do if she gets killed whilst we're out fraternising with the scum of the earth, Raymundo?! What happens then, eh? I won't be getting her respect if she's in a pissing morgue, will I?!"

Ray swallowed, but returned fire courageously.

"You're only thinking about the worst case scenario!"

"Then you explain to me what the _fuck_ I'm meant to do without her, and I'll let her out on fieldwork again!" Gene roared, spitting blood, and he stormed from the interrogation room, slamming the door virtually off its hinges and almost knocking Chris over, who was returning. The pair stared after him, equal looks of bewilderment on their faces.

"Well, that could have gone better," Ray summarised casually, hearing the door to their department ferociously slammed with a wince.

"You're telling me," Chris replied with a edge of sarcasm. "The bloke I've just arrested thought you were having a major homosexual domestic."

Ray raised his eyebrows in undisguised dismay, and they remained silent for a moment before shooting one another significant looks.

"Do you reckon he'd mind if we went home early?"

Ray gave Chris a grin.

"I don't think he'd even notice. And fuck, I need a drink after that," he added dryly.

"First round's on you," Chris demanded, and Ray smirked.

"Piss off," he remarked. "You might be Scrabble King, but if you think that's going to earn you my respect, you've got another bloody thing coming."

Chris chuckled, throwing open the door and holding it open.

"After you sir," he said simply, and Ray's eyebrows raised higher as he shrugged and strode through the doorframe, following his best mate out to the car park.

Beyond livid, Gene Hunt swept into his personal office and almost threw himself into the chair, seething. What the fuck did Ray Carling know about _anything_?

_A shitload more than you about women, _his brain supplied unhelpfully.

"Sod off," he snapped, impulsively picking up the phone and dialling Alex's home number.

"Pick _up_, for fuck's sake," he hissed in frustration as a consistent ringing met his ears and succeeded only in further pissing him off, and he waited in extreme impatience for the answering machine to kick-start.

"_You've reached Alex Drake, but she's not in right now. Leave a message and she'll call you back,_" Alex's voice said eventually, and the line beeped expectantly.

"Alex, it's Gene," he greeted gingerly, half-expecting the phone to be picked up and shattered into a thousand plastic shards by her currently malicious hands. "Look, I'm sorry about earlier - I was a twat, and… well, just call me bloody back when you're in, alright?"

He hesitated, sighing before adding the only thing he wanted to say to his message.

"I love you," he muttered softly, hanging up and forcefully replacing the handset, enraged at himself both for being such a wanker and for being so quick to apologise like a sniffling little twat. It was the woman's job to apologise, for crying out loud…

_Not when she's done jack shit wrong…_

"Fuck OFF!" The DCI roared, wondering how steam wasn't pouring out of his ears in torrents as he plucked the handset from the telephone again and dialled his own number, leaving more or less the same message on the off-chance that she was at his.

_And fuck knows why she would be…_

Anger eclipsing him and his desire to shut up that damn mental voice overtaking him, he strode out of the office, coat billowing behind him as he stamped off in the direction of his car. If he had to comb every damn street in London, he was going to find her and tell her what a stupid slag she was for not understanding how much he needed her to be safe.

As the DS and DC had accurately predicted, Gene didn't even bother to check where his inferior officers were, and as he fired up the Quattro and tore off up the street, he unwittingly shot past the very pub that Ray and Chris were steadily getting inebriated within.

He switched the radio on as he swerved round a corner, double-taking at the presenter's words.

"And now, by popular demand, we're taking you back to 1979 with Queen's timeless Don't Stop Me Now!"

"Oh, you're 'aving a _laugh_!" The DCI cried in disgust, horrified at the depths that his usually favourite radio station had sunk to, speeding carelessly through the avenues and alleyways of London.

"_Tonight, I'm gonna have myself a real good time, I feel ali-i-i-iive_…"

Rolling his eyes, Gene Hunt shifted the gear-stick and stuck a hand on the radio tuning dial, vaguely attempting not to scream homosexual abuse at it.

"Fuck that," he muttered, spinning the dial with his eyes on the unnecessarily traffic-clogged road ahead and having his ears met with the dulcet tones of Diana bleedin' Ross.

"_You make me love you out of feeling nothing, something that you do, oo_…"

"Dear God," he said in exasperation, "is there anything heterosexual on this pissing thing?!"

"_I don't wanna be your hero_," sang Johnny Hates Jazz. "_I don't want die for youuu_…"

As he switched to yet another station, Elvis Presley blasted out.

"_We can't go on together with suspicious minds_…"

"Oh, fuck it all!" Gene bit out, cutting the radio's power entirely before he became seriously irate and taking the side road down near Alex's favourite spot - a reasonably unspoilt stretch of grass directly next to the Thames with room for a view and several grazing ponies. The police radio loomed upon his dashboard, and as though he had only just remembered its presence, he picked it up and spoke into it.

"DCI Hunt calling DI Drake, do you read me?" He said uncertainly, hoping that she was in her car.

No answer was returned, and he sighed, slamming the communicator back onto its resting place in agitation.

As he came towards the end of the road, however, he saw the most welcome sight he had seen all day - Alex Drake was standing by the river, twenty metres in front of her car, staring out over the chilled murky breadth of the Thames, and he could not help a relieved smile from snaking across his lips as he got out of the Quattro and leant against it.

"What the hell are _you _doing here?" The DI demanded, still staring at the river.

He didn't bother to ask how she knew it was him, but merely smirked.

"I just wanted to let you know that you're a silly cow with an 'ell of a right hook," he replied.

"Is that it?"

Acid dripped from her speech, hiding deep hurt, and Gene ran a hand across his face in frustration at the uncharacteristic nature of what he was about to do.

"No it bloody isn't," the bent copper answered quickly, irritated as he moved towards her and wrapped his arms tightly around her stomach, her spine pressed into his front.

"You ever speak to me like that again," he whispered in a soft growl that made her shiver, "and I'm going to throw you in this pissing river."

He leant her forwards and over the edge of it, and she smiled darkly.

"You wouldn't," she said simply, fearless.

"What makes you think that?" He murmured in response, and bitter amusement tore into Alex.

"You can't even let me off desk duty, and you want me to believe that you'd let me drown?"

"Oh, so suddenly you understand me?" He whispered, rather sarcastic.

"Far better than you think," she responded, snuggling further into his embrace by pulling his arms across her chest. "And I know that you can't bring yourself to apologise because it'll mean admitting that you were an arsehole."

"I told your answering machine," he retorted hotly, and she smirked.

"O-ho, that I've _got_ to hear!"

He gave a soft hiss of annoyance, and she smiled to the Thames in silent victory.

"Do you think I like keeping you in?" Gene demanded randomly, annoyed. "Do you think it gives me some sort of perverse bloody pleasure to watch you sit there and get steadily more pissed off with me?"

Alex sighed heavily.

"No," she replied quietly. "I don't think that at all, you idiot…"

"Then why do you think I do it?" He snapped, too softly to be entirely malicious, and she tightened her grip on his hand, contemplating it.

"Because you care," she assumed, staring across the icy depths of the river. "Because my safety matters to you, and because you love me. And you can't say this yourself because you think you'll be a soft bastard if you do."

He half-smiled, staring past her hair and leaning forwards.

"And because I can't lose you," he added in a virtually silent whisper directly into her ear. "I can't, Alex."

Tears sprang to her eyes, and she gulped harshly.

"Whatever the hell you think, I'm not going to get myself killed by leaving the station for a few hours," she reminded him, and he sighed. "I have to face the fact that I might lose you every day, Gene…"

"I know," he answered palpably, tightening his grip on her as he thought himself an overly anxious wanker. "I bloody _know_…"

She smiled, forgiving him without him ever needing to apologise to her, and fixed her focus on a brightly coloured boat that was sailing woefully past them.

"But it doesn't stop you being scared any more than it stops me," Alex summarised, and he inhaled sharply.

"I'm not pissin' admitting to that one," he told her firmly, and she laughed.

"Doesn't matter," she replied, delighted to have got one over on him. "I know it's true."

Exhaling forcefully, Gene growled out several curses that were almost inaudible, and the DI grinned.

"So when you decide to lift my suspension," she said, a touch of ice entering her voice as he winced, "I'm going to get off desk duty, am I?"

He thanked whoever the hell was listening in the sky that she could not see his extremely sheepish expression.

"You're not suspended," he said simply, preparing himself for another jaw-crushing slap. "I haven't got the authority to suspend you without advice from the fucking higher-ups - I can only recommend it."

"_What_?!" She cried scandalously, shrugging off his arms and spinning around to face his smirk.

"Scared you though, didn't it?" Gene remarked coyly, and rather than return to her earlier anger, she simply shrugged and gave a soft chuckle.

"You're a complete bastard," she told him cheerfully, and he smiled.

"And you're an utter bitch, but I love you anyway."

Hugging him, she grinned.

"That's more like it!" She exclaimed. "And I love you too."

"Thank fuck for that," the DCI said casually, and he met her laughing lips with his own.

"Right then," Alex commented eventually, "What do you fancy doing?"

Gene contemplated it for a moment, making it seem as though he was seriously considering a list of options, before shrugging.

"Pub?"

"Pub," she confirmed, nodding appreciatively, linking with his offered arm and beaming at him.

"We'll pick your car up later," he instructed with authority, casting her a dubious look. "You're shit at driving when you're pissed, and there's not a chance in hell of me leaving this baby here."

As they sped off, heading for the very watering hole that Ray and Chris were now reasonably sloshed at, she turned to him in the passenger's seat.

"Get me the hell off desk duty and I'll consider buying the first drink," she said with a sly smile, and he heaved a deep sigh.

"Fine, mine's a pint," he said reluctantly. "Besides, there's only so much I can fucking take of Raymundo and Wonder Chris in one lifetime…"

She laughed, relaxing in her seat and switching the radio on.

"No!" Gene cried in protest, as the blaring sound of Hot Gossip met his horrified ears.

"_I lost my heart to a starship trooper, crashing out through hyperspaaaace_…"

"For fuck's sake!" He snapped as Alex turned it up to mask her laughter, and he cranked up the speed to avoid having to drown himself in such shit for too long, desperate for the solace of alcohol.

Fin

**Author note: Well, that's it folks. Done, finished, ended… unless you want another chapter, in which case you can give me ideas for it, 'cos I'm fresh out. :D I'm not against writing one though if you have an idea for me, or I might just tie it all up with a neat little epilogue… tell me what you think in your reviews, guys, and thanks for reading.**


	3. Epilogue

**Author note: I just **_**had**_** to write an epilogue to this, what with all my lovely reviewers, the fabulous Sunrise asking for it and my desire to tie it all up quite nicely. :D Written to Darren Hayes' **_**1980 Me**_**, which they bloody well need to use in A2A! Not much substance here, but it involves Gene getting pretty offended, Ray and Chris in a rather awkward position and Alex finding it all hilarious. It also contains a bizarre concept thus far in this tale - my good self remembering how to use line breaks. (What can I say? I write on Microsoft XP Home's Word Processor… XD)**

**So, for the final time this fic - let me know what you think, and enjoy!**

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"It's half four and we're going to get pissed," Alex pointed out despairingly, half-shouting over the blaring music.

"_The scanners seem to indicate a small deviation_…"

"So?" Gene asked carelessly, zooming down the road, conscious only of keeping his beloved Quattro in flawless condition. "The case is done, the paperwork's done and since when did _you _pass up the opportunity to get rat-arsed?"

"_Hand in hand, we'll conquer space!_"

She shot him an aggrieved look.

"I don't," she agreed, "but technically, we're still on duty…"

Had he not been so utterly horrified at the prospect of his motor becoming an insurance write-off heap of scrap metal, Gene Hunt would have performed an emergency brake right in the middle of the bustling London avenue they were currently speeding through.

"Sorry, have I just picked up your bloody doppelganger?" He demanded, glancing at her strangely. "There's just something about the words 'Alex Drake' and 'sober' that isn't ringin' true in my 'ead…"

Affronted, the DI glared at him.

"I resent the implication that I'm a one-dimensional wino slag who is only disinterested in becoming epically pissed due to being bound by ethical sodding principles!"

Gene smirked, winking as he nodded approvingly.

"You said that, not me," he reminded her smugly. "Besides, I didn't work my way up the bloody ranks for twenty plus years for some arsehole to tell me I couldn't clock off an hour early."

She sighed fruitlessly with recognition - she could argue herself hoarse, but the fact remained: they were going to the pub whether or not she objected.

"Mine's a Chianti then, you loveable bastard."

Despite his obvious amusement, he raised an eyebrow.

"_Chianti_?" He asked cynically. "Christ, feeling a bit upmarket are we?"

She rolled her eyes as he veered off and into the car park, positioning his Quattro right next to an oddly familiar motor.

"Correct me if I'm wrong," Alex began, staring at the car that was so enraging the DCI with a small smile of mischief creasing her features, "but is that -"

"Those conniving, conspiring, low-life, drunken, Chelsea-supporting _slags_!" Gene Hunt stormed, setting off for the pub entrance at a run, and with a laughing shout of "hypocrite!", she followed him hastily.

Bursting through the doors of one of his favoured watering holes with the gusto of a force nine gale, the DCI instantly spotted his targets and swept over to them, fury encompassing his face.

"What the _hell_ are you two doing?!"

Ray Carling and Chris Skelton instantly span around, almost toppling comically from their bar stools as Alex entered the bar.

"Ah, Guv," Chris began, falsely cheerful and looking extremely nervous, "well, the thing is -"

" - we're quite pissed," Ray interrupted chirpily. "And we thought, seeing as how you were 'otherwise engaged', we'd, uhm - sign out and get smashed on company time."

"I can see quite bloody plainly that you're pissed, gentlemen!" The DCI barked ferociously, and Chris privately thought that he could have made millions by impersonating the Towering Inferno. "_That_ is not the soddin' issue!"

Quietly chuckling from the doorway, Alex merely stood and inspected their absolutely stunned faces.

"You don't… mind?" Chris asked in an astonished falsetto, and Gene seethed within.

"Not particularly - but what I _do_ mind is that you didn't have the common bloody sense to invite my good self!"

At their speechlessness, the superior ranted on.

"And not only did you not bother asking me, you didn't even think telling me that you were sodding off! No 'Guv, we're off down the pub - fancy a pint?', no 'Can we get rat-arsed, Guv?' - not a pissing WORD!"

Swallowing harshly, Ray shrugged.

"We thought you had… _domestic issues_," he told his DCI, concentrating on not slurring the words as he picked up his glass, toasted it cheerfully with thin air and downed the remaining whiskey. Gene ran a hand across his face in aggravation, grabbing both their shirts impulsively and hoisting them both forwards.

"The point stands," he growled furiously, and Alex had to mask her laughter as she took a seat, quite unnoticed by the trio, and ordered a Chianti and a double Famous Grouse from the horrified barman.

"Don't worry," she assured him in a whisper, grinning. "He does this."

The man gifted her with a look of exasperated anguish as he poured the wine.

"If I ever catch the two of you out again without inviting me, I'm going to tie you both to thirty bottles of vodka and make you drink your way out of the pissin' Thames, got it?!"

"Yes Guv!" The DS and DC squeaked together, and Gene released them, taking the seat beside Alex with a satisfied smirk.

"Glad that's settled then," he said simply, and she giggled as he picked up the alcohol, swilled it thoughtfully and downed it as Ray and Chris desperately attempted to smooth out their necklines.

"And let that be a lesson to you, boys," the DI chirped, leaning over the bar to address the pair, who seemed stunned by her presence. She smiled, sipped her wine happily and relaxed into the bar stool as Gene got himself a lager, smiling at her before turning to the odd couple on his left.

"Right then, you tarts - who's for a little pool tournament?" He demanded, his usual sneering smirk being swiftly replaced with a genuine smile - he had won back the respect of his inferiors and the love of his DI, and that had put him in a good enough mood to possibly and intentionally lose a frame to his TinTin-esque DC.

Three calls of enthusiastic agreement rose up, and he challengingly knocked back half of his lager as an edge of mischief snaked onto his features.

"Loser buys the next round," he added, watching in amusement as Chris's hands scrambled frantically through his pockets for loose change as he racked them up.

Maybe, Gene Hunt thought quietly, warmed as Alex threw him a delighted smile from across the room; just maybe, he was feeling generous enough to conceded more than one frame.

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**Author note: Finished, done, ended! That was really quite fun to write, and I'm hoping it was fun for you to read - let me know please! Thanks for following the story, and I'm in the process of coming up with something new right now.**

**Thanks guys!**


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